


Baby Mine, Please Don't Cry

by ambersagen



Series: Stiles-Centric One Shots [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental wetting mentioned briefly, Alternate Universe - Littles Caretakers Doms and Subs, Although he is technically a teen his Little side is like 2, And neutrals, Baby Stiles Stilinski, Caretaker Peter Hale, Caretaker Peter Hale/Sub Derek, Child Neglect, Daddy Peter Hale, Daddy Peter Hale/Little Stiles Stilinski, Fuck Canon, Gen, Good Alpha Peter Hale, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, No Incest, No Sex, No Underage Sex, Non-Sexual Age Play, Peter and Stiles are in a Daddy/Little relationship, Platonic Relationships, Slightly crazy Peter Hale, Starts after the hospital scene where Peter meets Stiles, Sub Derek Hale, alternate universe - littles are known, he still has issues, its not ageplay tho its a born thing, just building Pack and family, little stiles stilinski, neglectful Sheriff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-26 18:16:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20746610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambersagen/pseuds/ambersagen
Summary: He knew he shouldn’t be Little right now. Bad things were happening and he had to stop them, had to protect his daddy, had to help the wolves and his Scott. But he felt smaller than he had ever felt before in his whole life. Like the world had become giant sized overnight and he was going to get squished. Everything wanted to squish him these days, even his friends. Especially the wolves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am very >: at life right now. The next chapter of We Found Each Other is being a bitch so I wrote this in angst. Part 2 should be up tomorrow.  
Also there is not enough Little!Stiles in the world and that makes me very sad.
> 
> SCENE STARTS THE NIGHT OF PETER'S BIG DRAMATIC BITCH HOSPITAL REVEAL

Stiles' world had become so huge and scary, full of monsters and blood. 

It had changed almost overnight. 

There were werewolves everywhere, his best friend turning mean and vicious, his dad's disappointment and anger, all of it bearing down on him. 

He had almost died today. A crazy Alpha werewolf had stood right next to him and stared him in the eyes. Derek had tried to rip out the Alpha's guts right in front of him. He had barely managed to run out of the hospital without breaking down from fear, and he wasn't sure how he had managed to get himself home in one piece. 

Shaking, shaking, the world was shaking apart. Vibrations worked out from his very bones and Stiles was helpless to do anything but ride out the waves. He wanted his daddy. He really _really _wanted his mommy. But he only had his Ralph, old and fraying as the stuffed puppy was. He knew he shouldn’t be Little right now. Bad things were happening and he had to stop them, had to protect his daddy, had to help the wolves and his Scott. But he felt smaller than he had ever felt before in his _whole life_. Like the world had become giant sized overnight and he was going to get squished. Everything wanted to squish him these days, even his friends. Especially the wolves.

So he cried. He cried and cried and wished his daddy was home, but his wishes were never answered. He was all alone and it was dark. The world was giant and he was so so Little.

Stiles cried, and hugged Ralph tightly.

Whenever he felt very Little, Stiles liked to build a blanket fort to hide in. Inside a blanket fort everything was soft and quiet. No one to yell at him, or get annoyed with him. No homework or chores or medicines to take. He didn't have a Mommy or Daddy when he was Little, only a daddy when he was big, but in his fort there was no need for anyone but Ralph and him. 

He didn't have the energy to make one now. He was too Little and it was far too late to ever believe he could be safe again. But eventually his tears stopped, even without the protection of a fort, leaving him feeling fuzzy headed and sticky all over. It was bad. He might have started crying all over again with how yucky he felt, but his throat hurt, and he was so so so tired. Maybe he could get drink of water? It was only a few steps down the hall to the bathroom, he could do it and be back in bed real fast. 

He lifted his head from the bed slightly, red eyes surveying the room, jumping to every shadow with growing trepidation. Even when he wasn't Little he had a big imagination. What if the shadow in the corner was a monster? What if that scratching at the window was the alpha, trying to get in to eat him?

He froze, fear paralyzing him as he realized that the scratching at the window was still happening, was actually getting _louder._ The widow rattled, then began to slide upward. Stiles watched in horror as a clawed hand reached under the now open gap and pulled the window fully up. He ducked his head under his pillow as the werewolf vaulted through the opening, landing with a menacing thud on the carpet. 

"Stiles!" It growled, and Stiles couldn't help but squeak in fear, clutching Ralph tighter as the wolf prowled closer to his hiding spot. 

"Stiles I swear to god, you had better not be sleeping."

Oh, that was Derek. He didn't get eaten by the Alpha after all! But he sounded really mad, and Stiles didn't want to get smacked around anymore tonight. Maybe if he just kept really still Derek would give up and go away. He held his breath, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as Derek paused above him.

Luck was not on his side.

Derek growled, grabbing the boy by his ankle. “Get up Stiles! We have shit to do.” He pulled, and Stiles gave a yelp as he fell out of the bed, still clutching his precious stuffed dog to his chest. 

“I need you to get me a list of abandoned buildings Peter might be hiding in,” Derek said, and Stiles could almost feel him holding back another growl of frustration as the teen just continued to lie on the ground, face hidden by the stuffed dog he was pressing to it like he wanted to suffocate himself. Maybe he did, he wasn't sure. He didn't want to die but he really didn't want to leave his bedroom to go hunting a scary wolf monster in the middle of the night with a guy who kept hurting him. His ankle throbbed in time with his shoulder where it had hit the ground hard enough to bruise. Everything was terrible.

“Stiles! What the fuck is wrong with you?" Derek raged, pulling at the blankets that had fallen with him to the floor. Stiles let out a distressed yelp as his stuffy was suddenly pulled away with werewolf strength. "Get up!" Derek demanded, kicking Ralph across the room. 

That was the tipping point. Between all the stuff that had been happening this week, the fighting and almost dying, and now getting yelled at and pushed around by a scary, snarling monster man? Stiles did the only thing a Little could do.

He screamed his head off.

“No!” He kicked out at Derek, who slapped back at the suddenly flailing feet in surprise. “No no noooooooo!” He wasn’t as loud as he would have been hours before, not after having already cried himself out after a long day of running for his life, but he could still scream enough that maybe if he was very lucky, someone would hear and call the cops. Of course all of this was a distant concept to his Little self, who only knew the bad wolf man was scaring him. He wanted Derek gone. He wanted his dad.

The werewolf was on top of him now, trying to hold him down. A hand was pressing roughly over his mouth and the man was yelling at him to shut up. He couldn’t breathe, and he was writhing on the cold floor like a wild thing trying to get free. Why wouldn’t anyone help him?

A howl pierced through the night, freezing Derek in place. Stiles trembled, still kicking weakly at the wolf pinning him to the floor. Derek gave a low, warning growl, his claws tightening around the boy’s jaw in an attempt to quiet him, but he simply shrieked through the painful pressing as something came barreling through the window with a snarl.

“Derek. _Let. Him_. _Go.”_ The new monster said, eyes glowing red like burning coals.

To the Little’s shock Derek actually gave a pained whine, like a kicked dog, and jerked away from Stiles like his touch burned. The sudden freedom left Stiles choking, gasping down air even as he retched around tears flooding his sinuses and mouth.

“Hush baby, Daddy’s here. You’re alright now.” 

The monster-werewolf?-was scooping him up in a much gentler hold as Derek scrambled away from both of them. Stiles coughed and cried as he was lifted and found breathing suddenly easier now that he wasn’t on his back. Strong arms rubbed soothing circles on his spine as he heaved his way through breath after breath, and the man growled something at Derek as Stiles drifted in a sea of wet misery. A moment later tissues were mopping at his face, helping further clear his mess up and distracting him from his wave of panic. He tried dodging, tried to pull away, but the wipes were relentless and the voice commanding them was firm. “I know, nobody likes wipes. But Daddy just wants to help, baby.”

Stiles whimpered with confusion. “D-daddy?”

Peter felt more awake than he had in years. The crying Little in his lap was like a siren going off in the dead of night. It woke something inside him, igniting a purpose in him so long buried he had thought it burned up with the rest of him. Vengeance had been, until now, the thing that had woken him from what had seemed like a lifetime of wandering through burning nightmares. Now he realized he had never fully escaped them, that he had been like a sleepwalker, his wolf all instinct and rage against those who had burned him alive. And those who had abandoned him to die. 

Still rocking the boy in his lap and murmuring all the soft reassurances that his Caretaker side had never had the chance to use on a Little of his own, Peter turned in a daze to where his nephew cowered against the far end of the room. He wasn't surprised when Derek flinched hard when he noticed him looking. Only hours before they had been exchanging fists after all. Derek had been filled with grief over Laura -_betrayer, his wolf snarled_\- and Peter had been riding high on finally standing on his own two feet again, the Alpha power surging and healing the long rotted parts of his human body. What did surprise him was this Little. 

In the hospital he had only seen a boy, growing and awkward, brave and foolish. And Derek had protected the teen, but barely, roughly. There had been nothing to indicate to Peter that the boy was a Little. That he was something so precious. 

He was also a mess. Peter had heard the Little scream from several blocks over, where he had been tracking Derek after his nephew had given him the slip at the hospital. Caretaker and Alpha urges had fused like lightning striking him and he had been off like a bullet, ready to rip apart any who would dare harm a Little. To find Derek practically strangling the life out of his own ally, just a teenager, had been yet another shock to throw on the pile that had been today's mess. He had Alpha roared at his nephew, and although he wasn't a born Dom there was enough dominance in a Caretaker that even when he hadn't been Alpha, Derek's Sub side had always been keen to follow and obey him. Tonight Derek dropped like a sack of rocks, cowering back like Peter had sunk his claws in him -_he would never, not his pup, not when he missed him missed pack damn Laura she had ripped it all from him she deserved death deserved pain_\- Derek's pathetic whine itched at him, not as horribly as the still crying Little in his arms but enough that he was a growing a bit desperate to gain control over this situation. He needed to install order. 

"Derek, come here." He nodded sharply to space beside him, where Derek could stand but Stiles wouldn't be able to see him with the way he was held tight against Peter. 

"Now," he said, calm but unyielding when Derek hesitated. That was enough, and Derek stepped forward, eyes on the floor and shoulders hunched up to his eyebrows, misery cloying his scent until it almost burned Peter's nose. 

"Good. Stay right there." He waited until Derek was stationary again, knowing that simple orders given clearly, one at a time, were best for cracking through that Sub Drop Derek was no doubt falling into. His nephew smelled of loneliness and teenager, and nothing at all of Dom or satisfied Sub. Peter stifled a sigh, knowing that any outward show of displeasure was likely to set off both the Sub and Little in his care right now. 

"Derek, Stiles needs our help." He didn't say that most of why the Little needed help so desperately was because his nephew fucked up. Now wasn't the time or place and the goddess only knew how unstable Derek was without anyone to take him down properly. He couldn't be blamed too much for his own actions, not any more than Peter blamed himself for the blood on his claws recently, or the distraught boy in his arms for all the noise he was making. "There must be supplies somewhere in the house, a diaper bag or something somewhere. Be my good pup and find them please."

Derek gave a visible shiver at the term of endearment, one that had once been so familiar in their family, and was immediately off on his quest. Peter doubted he was up enough to even question following his uncle's orders at the moment. What a mess. He rocked Stiles gently, wiping the boy's face every so often to keep him from drowning in his own crying. He was such a shockingly young Little. Peter couldn't believe he was allowed out at school and free roaming the town without a Caretaker. It was absurdly irresponsible of his father, and borderline illegal as well, to leave such a young Little without assistance or a babysitter. 

He heard when Derek found something, and he could tell from the stutter in his breathing and heart rate that it wasn't good. "Derek? Come back pup. Bring what you have." He didn't want Derek to go catatonic if he couldn't finish his assigned task. Peter tried to keep a smile on his face as Derek slunk back in with a mostly empty bag of potty training pull-ups, no changing supplies, toys, or anything else in his hands. Peter's wolf was practically slathering with fury, but he let nothing show on his face as he took the items. There should have been so much more, how did Stiles live like this?

"Thank you pup. You did very good. Now, I think our baby needs a bath. Can you get a bath started for us, Derek?" Peter asked, and Derek was off, tail practically wagging with glee over being so useful. Finally Peter allowed himself a sigh, and turned his attention back to the boy in his arms. Stiles had mostly quieted, staring through watery eyes blankly around the room. Poor baby. Peter would never let anyone hurt him like this again. He would rather bathe the world in blood than see the Little so low.

"You'll be alright, Stiles," he said, brushing his lips to the crown of the boy's head. "You're safe now."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work was indeed a bitch but I managed to get this done anyway. Booya.

_"You're safe now."_

With a shudder of surrender Stiles finally went lax. 

He was ok. No more monsters. A warm wetness had already begun to spread across the crotch of his jeans from when he was wrestling with Derek, but his eyes were slipping closed, puffy from tears, his arms felt like spaghetti, and he just didn't see any reason to care. His Daddy didn’t seem to mind though, only patting his bum a bit as he gently shifted Stiles and lifted him up. Stiles rested his head on the broad shoulder in front of him, his wet cheek pressed against soft and lumpy scars over his Daddy’s neck. 

Arms came up around him and he gave another shuddering sigh, hiccuping slightly as he came down from the crying. There were voices talking, but they were soft and he didn’t have the energy to make them be words. Instead he nuzzled closer to the rumbly warm that was holding him and rocking gently now.

The rumbling didn’t last long, and at some point the rocking became swaying steps, and Stiles whimpered when he realized he had been moved to the bathroom. He peeked out just a little at the sound of taps being turned off and he was tipped slightly as his Daddy rumbled something. There was a splashing sound, probably from the bath, and the different rumble said something, startling him into properly looking around. 

He hadn’t realized someone else was in the small room, and he wasn’t exactly reassured when he saw it was just Derek, standing awkwardly hunched to the side by the door. He blinked at the wolf, hand moving up slowly towards his face in a nervous attempt to self soothe, but he stopped just short of actually slipping his fingers into his mouth. He didn’t want Derek to yell at him again, and sucking his thumb like a baby might make him annoyed. Derek didn’t look like he was going to yell though. In fact, he looked downright cowed, eyes on the tiled floor and arms wrapped around his middle like he was trying to restrain himself. It was weird, this was all weird.

Suddenly, Stiles was hit with a freezing wave of Stranger Danger terror. He didn’t know who was holding him. Sheriff daddy wasn’t home and Derek was across the room.

As if sensing his change in mood the arms around him shifted, the man holding him giving a nonsensical coo of concern as he finished whatever he had been doing and pulled back from the bathtub.

“Oh baby, I know. You must feel very poorly. Let Daddy get you out of those yucky clothes, ok?” Peter Hale said, turning Stiles to balance carefully on his knee as he sat them both on the toilet, no trace of rage or blood lust in his soft baby talk. Stiles sat stupefied as the wolf began carefully stripping him out of his layers, his Daddy voice a constant rumble of instructions and praise that wrapped around Stiles like the warm steam slowly filling the room. It melted the fear that had snapped him almost out of his head space and he found himself almost smiling as Peter coaxed him down to his soiled jeans, giving his tummy a little tickle as his final shirt was removed.

“Almost there, sweet boy. I know,” Daddy’s voice was sympathetic when Stiles grunted unhappily at the rough pull of wet fabric as his jeans were removed. “Let's get you in the nice, warm bath.”

Hands were pulling at his ruined boxers and Stiles let out a shrieking protest, making both weres flinch at the no doubt painful volume.

“No!” Stiles demanded, pointing an indignant finger at Derek. He didn’t want the werewolf to see his butt! Derek would never let him live it down if he saw Stiles getting bathed like some stupid little kid.

Peter held out a towel to Derek, who tentatively unwrapped from himself to take it. “Kneel on this and face the wall. You don’t have to hold still but no peeking, understood?” He held eye contact with Derek while Stiles held his breath until Derek gave a small, sharp nod, dropping his gaze back to the floor. Peter smiled at Derek, a much nicer smile than the one he had given Stiles back at the hospital. “Good. That good enough for you, shy guy?” He asked Stiles, who pouted a bit but finally nodded in agreement. “When we get our boy cleaned up we’ll have a nice nap. It’s been a bad day all around I think, huh baby?”

“Yeh,” Stiles agreed, grumbling around the fingers that had sneakily found their way back into his mouth. He was really really tired, and ouchy, and his pants felt real cold and yucky now that he noticed. Lucky Daddy had him out in two shakes of a wolf’s tail, and he was soon sitting in the warm bath, practically becoming baby pudding as Peter rubbed shampoo into his hair. The world was slipping away into a coconut scented warmth, and Stiles was drifting off with it. 

Stiles was almost conked out right in the tub after Peter had finally finished cleaning him up. The baby had responded to the bath and physical attention like a flower opening in the sun. Gone was the wailing Little of only moments before, in his place was a happily grunting and almost blissfully relaxed baby. Even Derek seemed to have calmed down from whatever the hell Peter had walked in on, his nephew’s shoulders dropping slowly from their hunched misery to Sub waiting patiently for guidance. As for himself, Peter hadn’t felt so awake and in the moment in years, his Caretaker instincts happy to have been of use to his family.  
But even good things come to an end, and he eventually had to pull the plug, draining the now cool bath as he gave Stiles a last little rinse.  
  
He bundled up the sleepy Little, towel and all, and carried him back to the boy’s bedroom with a soft “come pup” for Derek to follow. Once inside with the door firmly closed and locked behind him, he told Derek to make the bed while he got Stiles into something into more suitable. he didn’t expect the sheriff home tonight if the cops did their job and found the body of his nurse in the park where he had left her, but it never hurt to take precautions. Derek obeyed easily, his movements lethargic and fumbling for a werewolf. The Sub was flagging just as badly as the Little in Peter’s arms, and to be honest Peter was looking forward to getting some sleep himself.  
  
“Alright baby, lets get you all snugly for bed.”  
  
He carefully maneuvered the boy until he was laid out on the towel, big eyes blinking trustingly up at him. There was no sign of shyness now, only a Little in full head space waiting patiently to be changed and cared for. Peter’s wolf growled at the lack of proper supplies, but for one night at least the boy would be fine in just a pull up. Peter would simply have to be extra alert for a soiled baby so as to avoid diaper rash.  
  
Stiles was an adorable but useless dead weight as Peter bundled him into pull ups and pajamas, and the Caretaker was thankful for the return of his werewolf strength as he finally hefted the exhausted boy into bed. With an expert hand he soon had Derek bracketing Stiles from against the wall, the Sub falling asleep almost as soon as Peter gave him permission - not such a surprise after all the stress of the day. It was a tight fit but Peter managed to squeeze in on the Little’s other side, Stiles pressed cozy between the two wolves, although Peter had to move the drawer a bit closer to the bed to keep them from all rolling out in the middle of the night.  
  
All in all it was an astonishing turn of events, one that even he, in all his delusional cunning, had never dreamed to plan for.  
  
He would have to extend his timeline, play it safer and actually think of a future after the Argents had paid in blood for their sins. Oh well. Plans of vengeance could be modified, and he had so much more to gain now if he played his hand right.  
  
With a smile and another deep sniff of the contented Little In his arms, Peter finally allowed himself to drift off into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that for now. I will someday return to this, once I get my Wip list knocked down a few fics. Please don't ask for sequels until then, I know its from a place of love (and I so appreciate when people like my work) but I am a sad, anxious bunny these days and it makes me feel enormously guilty. Just know I will return, at some point hopefully in the next few months! xoxoxox

**Author's Note:**

> Comments feed my writing.
> 
> Come say hello. I am a lonely person.  
ambersagen.tumblr.com


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